Nanette Milan and the Grandmaster's Secret
by LadyLienDa
Summary: Nan is a girl from a distant planet living with the Sonic Crew. When a friend disappears under mysterious circumstances and the team is thrown into turmoil, the remainder of the group must band together to find out what happened. When push comes to shove, perhaps it takes a quirky, slightly ADHD alien girl like Nan to see the situation like no one else can.
1. Prolgue

_Prologue: The Twisted Pine_

It was raining in Deerwood Forest. Most of Mercia had received a great deal of it in recent days. So far it had been fairly consistent, neither a heavy downpour nor a light drizzle. It had, however, seemed to intensify around noon on the fourth day, and continued on through the afternoon until dusk. By then, the rain had increased considerably, so that it was nothing short of a full cloudburst.

The people of Mercia, however, hardly took any notice. Rain such as this was common, and the inhabitants were used to donning heavy boots and wrapping their cloaks tightly about themselves when they went out. Even if it wasn't raining, the villagers were still used to cloaks and boots, because clear weather was hardly any better than rainy weather at this time of year.

It was dusk, and the rain was coming down in sheets on the town of Snottingham. It drummed on the rough wooden shingles of the old roofs, and splattered down on the streets, joining the rivulets running between the broken flagstones. Shop owners were beginning to close up their storefronts for the night, and the lamps were sputtering in their grimy posts.

People were still out and about, their cloaks wrapped so tightly about them that they resembled short, huddled, bean-like shapes with large booted feet, moving quickly from street to street as they made their way home. No one paused to look twice at the dark, dirty alleyways as they passed them. The alleys were cramped and strewn with rubbish, and the water drains were almost always clogged with more garbage, causing putrid grey water to flood in pools around the low parts of the uneven ground.

Near the edge of the city, in one of these particular alleyways, the drain was no different. The fetid grey water was swirling listlessly as it attempted to force its way through the blockage of trash, dirt, and fallen leaves into the sewers below. However, the water became stymied altogether as a dark mass began to creep its way from between the cracks in the grate. It appeared liquid in form, dark as midnight, and moved surprisingly quickly. It swept beneath the flooding cesspool and onto the muddy gravel beside it, where it congealed and began to take form. In a few seconds, where before there had been a dark puddle, there stood a stooped, cloak-wearing figure nearly exactly like the ones in the streets. It paused behind a few rotting remains of some barrels, then darted out of the alleyway and began making its way across the street.

Once across the street, the figure paused, glanced about him for a moment before continuing towards a shabby, run-down building sandwiched between two newer, nicer ones. A grimy wooden sign with the words "The Twisted Pine" emblazoned upon it in peeling greenish-gray paint creaked as it swung lazily back and forth in the fickle wind. The windows were as filthy and gloomy as the shabby wooden exterior, but a warm light shone through them nonetheless.

The door squealed noisily as it swung open on rusty hinges. The figure paused a moment to remove his hood and squeeze the water from his mahogany red tunic and battered blue cloak. He looked just like any sort of shady fellow that might step foot in this tavern, yet he was so much more. Few knew him and of his powers, and even fewer knew where he truly came from. No one on Mobius knew his name, which he kept a secret, but to those whom he had encountered in his travels, he was known as Morlog.

He was a tall, muscular wolverine with midnight black eyes. His fur was a dusty grey and his shoulder-length hair, which hung limply in his face, was a dull chestnut brown. His face was rather square-shaped and rugged, bearing signs of rough living. He wore a grim expression, and his chiseled jaw was set in a tight frown, but his eyes were deep and piercing. As he wrung the water out of his cloak, his gaze swept about the interior of the tavern for the first time.

The inside of the pub was just as discolored as the outside and its occupants even more so. It was crowded and noisy, so no one had noticed the wolverine fellow as he entered. He observed them sitting around their heavy tankards and speaking in low voices, chatting amiably at the bar, laughing at their companions while playing cards, or quietly observing as they smoked their pipes. The warm air was ripe with the pungent mixture of ale, sweat, and tobacco smoke. The ceiling was low and sagging upon its coarse wooden pillars, and the floor, which Morlog at first took to be earthy, was of a roughly-hewn flagstone covered with a thick layer of dust and grime; evidence of the accumulated filth of countless years. Numerous candles sputtered in their grubby wicks beside the windows, in the center of tables, or swung from low iron chandeliers. The tables, chairs, and stools were hewn from oak planks, and seemed sturdy enough, even though they evidently had seen more than their fair share of occupants.

And what an assortment of occupants! There were people from many different racial groups and countries, yet they all had a distinctly dodgy look about them that made them all seem alike. There were folks from as far as Kar Leung in the east to Sand Blast City in the west. Each seemed to keep to himself or to his companions, and no one looked twice at anyone else in the immediate vicinity.

In one corner, a trio of wolves that looked to have come from the Wolf Pack Nation down in Soumerca sat playing some sort of card game while swigging whiskey from large bottles. A plump squirrel woman in an enormous feathered hat sat on a stool at the bar; shouting and laughing in a voice that drowned even the raucous argument between a clearly exasperated hyena and a smug-looking jackal at a table near the middle of the noisy pub. Both were obviously foreign; judging from their heavy turbans and sweeping robes, they were most likely from the southeast, maybe Shamar or even Adabat. At another table farther off, a pair of female lynxes sat sipping wine from long, tall glasses. They both wore black, tight-fitting leotards and long, slinky boots that reached to mid-thigh. Their golden jewelry flashed in the candlelight, and their playfully sparkling eyes peeking out from beneath long, silky hair were lined heavily with several layers of dark-colored eyeliner. Near the door, two ancient echidnas were smoking tobacco from long clay pipes. The strong-smelling smoke lingered in the air, giving the whole pub a hazy feel. Both were bundled up so tightly they hardly resembled more than sagging sacks of rough, worn robes with derelict, drooping heads sticking out of them. One of them squinted up at the wolverine through grimy pince-nez glasses.

"Close 'e door, boy. You're lettin' in a draft." He croaked wheezily, taking another pull at his pipe.

Without a word, Morlog turned and closed the door behind him, then made his way through the tavern towards the bar. He threw down a pair of silver coins and said in a thick, husky voice:

"One pint of rum."

The barman, a heavyset coyote with a dull, stony face, bushy gray eyebrows, and a scar across his left arm grunted and pulled a thick wooden tankard from a shelf above him. After observing Morlog for a moment as he poured the ale, he muttered something under his breath and spoke in a voice as gravelly as his appearance.

"Don't see many fellers like yeh 'roundabout 'ere." He remarked, chewing on a generous wad of tobacco. "Where're yeh from?"

"Northamer." Morlog muttered in reply, figuring this would suffice.

The barman grunted again, wiping his sausage-shaped fingers on his soiled apron. "What brings yeh to these 'ere parts?" He asked, slamming the tankard down on the bar with a thud.

"Business." The wolverine replied.

"Be that so?" Inquired the barman, taking the coins and examining them with a practiced eye. "Hope it ain't business wot them fellers call 'business'." Here he scowled deeply at the foreign hyena and jackal near the middle of the pub, who were now shouting angrily at each other with clenched fists and bared teeth.

"Oy!" The barman bellowed across the bar, causing all conversation to momentarily cease. "Shut up or take it outside, will yeh? I gots more trouble 'n noise 'an my pub can hold wit'out yeh rabble goin'n stirrin' things up!" He turned back to Morlog and scowled even deeper, showing several blackened, uneven teeth. "Bunch o' dirty rifraff." He muttered as the two left the pub in a huff and chatter resumed.

Morlog snorted in agreement. Then he shrugged. "Hey, it's a living."

"Yeh got that right."

There was a pause as the barman went to clear off the recently vacated table. When he came back, Morlog was still sitting where he was, staring at his tankard. He looked up when the barman came back to him, wiping a glass with a filthy gray rag that looked as though it had originally been white, but had long since ceased to be so.

"Say, wasn't yeh here fer business?" He inquired, raising a bushy eyebrow at the mysterious fellow.

"Er, yes." Morlog replied. "I was wondering if you could help."

The barman shrugged. "I'll do my best."

Morlog leaned in farther and spoke in a low voice. "I'm looking for someone." He said.

"Eh, there be lots o' someones." The barman grunted. "Wot sort o' someone yeh lookin' fer?"

"An echidna by the name of Kragok. Do you know if he's here?"

There was a pause during which the barman continued to wipe out the glass with the soiled rag he was holding.

"Most fellers don' like bandyin' them names about, know wot I mean?" The barman replied without looking up. "Fellers start askin' more questions than's good fer them. Other 'n the usual 'where're yeh from, why're yeh 'ere, an' that sort 'o idle chinwaggin', I mean."

"One can never be too careful." Morlog remarked, taking a swig from his tankard.

"Too true." The barman chuckled. "So yeh said yeh's lookin' fer 'n echidna, eh?"

Morlog nodded.

The barman's face contorted once more into a scowl and he spat a stream of tobacco juice onto the floor with obvious contempt.

"Bloomin' rabble, the whole lot of 'em." He grunted. "They come in 'ere wit 'em dread-heads 'eld 'igh, thinkin' they owns the 'ole place." He snorted again. "On'y echinas I've seen 'ere today're 'em two tater-sacks," he gestured to the pair of old pipe-smokers by the door, "n' that 'ooded feller off in the back." He pointed. "Back table wit'at gray feller, see? Still got 'is 'ood on, too."

Morlog turned. Across the pub, in the very farthest, most secluded corner, sat two shady figures, one cloaked in black, the other in dark gray. Both had their hoods up over their faces, and were sitting very still, like cloaked statues.

"Thanks." Morlog muttered, getting up from his seat.

"Jest watch yeh back wit 'im."

"What do you mean?" inquired Morlog.

"Lemme put it this way." The barman said, setting his glass down. "I gets a lotta strange fellers from all over, y'know? Well, 'im, that 'ooded feller? I took one look at 'im, I did, an' a shiver goes down me spine. I never met 'n echidna I trusted, but 'e were in a league of 'is own. Yeh'll come to a bad end if yeh 'ang around wit' 'em lot."

"I think I'll take my chances." Morlog replied sourly.

The barman shrugged. "Don' say I didn't warn yeh." He grunted, waving his hand in farewell as he moved off to fulfill another order. "So long."

Morlog waved back, and then turned and carried his tankard across the tavern to the farthest table where the two figures sat motionless in the shadows. As he walked, he pondered what the barman had said. He himself had never had dealings with echidnas before, but he couldn't help wondering if the barman might be right, and he was heading for a bad end. But another part of him suspected that what the barman had said was based on some past encounter with an echidna that made him distrust all echidnas on principle. Whatever the barman's reasons, Morlog decided to take his chances anyway. After all, if worst came to worst, what chance did one echidna and his subordinate have against the power he possessed?

"Evening, gentlemen." Morlog said, sitting down and placing his tankard on the table. "Is this where I can find a Mr. Kragok? I was contacted and asked to meet him in the Twisted Pine at eight on the twenty-second."

"You've found me, alright." The black-hooded figure said in a high, cold voice, setting down his tall glass. His face was completely immersed in shadows. He offered his hand to Morlog and they shook. The echidna's hand was small and fragile-looking, and felt rather stiff and cold. When the handshake was over, he pulled it back inside his robes.

"And have you met my associate, Eclipse?" He asked, inclining his head to his gray-robed companion, who reached up with three-fingered, clawed hands and removed his hood. Morlog started in surprise, biting his tongue just in time to keep from uttering a rather colorful word. The face was Mobian in form, but distinctly alien, with pallid gray and red skin and yellow eyes with black scleras. He had seen that face before, but only in a picture, and that was a long time ago. However, he regained his composure and offered his hand in greeting.

"No, I don't believe I have." He said. The alien figure smiled, showcasing long, pointed gray teeth, and took the proffered hand in his own three-fingered claw.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" he asked the echidna in a chilling, creeping voice that seemed to resonate around the enclosed space with an uncanny hollowness. "Now that we're all here, I don't think we should waste any more time."

"No, indeed." The echidna replied. "If you please, I -"

"Hang on a minute." Morlog interrupted, feeling he needed to establish a few things before more surprises were sprung. "I don't know about you, but I generally like to know who I'm talking to. I get the feeling you're not what you seem."

"No, I'm not." The echidna replied, his voice sounding mocking, and almost playful. "But then you're not what you appear to be, either."

Before Morlog could reply, the echidna reached up and slowly removed his hood, letting the dim candlelight reveal his face at last. Morlog, who had unfortunately chosen that moment to take a swig from his tankard, gasped with surprise, causing him to choke on his rum.

The echidna had a long, pointy nose and thick dreadlock-like quills, just like all echidnas. However, what gave the wolverine such a start was the long, curly reddish hair that cascaded in ringlets over the dreadlocks, and the perfectly shaped blue eyes that stared piercingly out from beneath thick eyelashes.

The female echidna stared at Morlog for a few moments, her expression somewhere between complacency and curiosity. Then she smiled slyly and offered her hand again.

"The name's Lien-Da. Grandmaster Lien-Da." She said in a lofty-sounding voice, with particular emphasis on the word _grandmaster_. Morlog, however, stared for another few seconds, and then seemed to surface from a deep reverie.

"What?!" He spluttered.

"Haven't you heard of me?" Lien-Da inquired, lifting the glass from the table before her and taking a sip from the dark red liquid within.

"Of course." Morlog replied. "You're from the Dark Egg Legion, aren't you? You work for Doctor Eggman?"

Lien-Da nodded, taking another sip from her glass. Her flashing blue eyes never left his face for an instant, but her expression was unreadable.

"But why not tell me that outright?" Morlog asked, finding Lien-Da's insistent stare a bit unnerving. "Why all the secrecy?"

"But I thought you liked secrecy and tricks?" Lien-Da inquired, lifting an eyebrow to stare quizzically at him through locks of curly hair.

"Times have changed." Morlog stated flatly.

"Indeed, they have." Lien-Da agreed. "And that's why we're here."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 Relic Gate-Crashes a Party

"… _Happy Birthday to you!"_

I watch with everyone else and clap as Knuckles blows out all eighteen candles on his cake with a mighty puff. It's a warm, sunny day in early March, and we're all out on the back porch of Knuckles' house on Angel Island celebrating his eighteenth birthday.

By 'we,' I mean the SSS Team. It's an elite band of heroes that protect the planet of Mobius, led by the legendary Sonic the Hedgehog. I first came across them when I was sent to Mobius from my home planet, Argentia, to find them and ask them to help save my planet. I ended up joining their team and traveling halfway across the galaxy and back, encountering endless amounts of adventure along the way. Now I live here on Mobius and continue to pursue adventure while protecting the world from evil. Pretty slick deal.

I'm Nan, by the way. Nannette Sariah Milan. But nobody calls me that. They all call me 'Nan' for short. It's easier to say.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. So we're at Knuckles' house on Angel Island, it's a beautiful day, and we're all celebrating his birthday. We're not the only ones here, either. He's got some other friends too. His old mates, the Chaotix, and a childhood friend, Sally Acorn, are here as well.

Actually, not _all_ of us are here. Our team of eleven is down two members. Blaze is visiting her cousin in her home Zone, and Amy's gone with her, for a reason I never was able to catch. Something about seeing old friends, or whatever. Point is, they've been gone for about two weeks now, and we're starting to miss them. Well, miss their cooking, that is.

Nevertheless, it's a good party, even without our two best cooks. Mighty and Julie-Su both pitched in to bake the cake (it's chocolate with green frosting), and Vector made his famous hot-pepper guacamole. I hope Seder got a picture of Charmy's face when he tried it. That stuff is _really_ spicy.

We all sing 'Happy Birthday,' and watch as Knuckles blows out all his candles. He grins happily and makes some sort of silly mock-bow in response to our clapping and laughing (and the _click, click, click_ of Seder's camera). The one clapping and laughing the most is Knuckles' girlfriend, Julie-Su. She's standing there in her skinny jeans and rock-band tee shirt ( _Capital X,_ I think), and her smile is one of congratulations and undisguised admiration. I smile to myself, even though I'm already grinning on the outside. Julie-Su and Knuckles go together like chocolate does with peanut butter (or maybe hazelnut butter, since I like that better). For the several years since they met they've stuck to each other like glue (or my teeth to a caramel apple).

Therefore, nobody is surprised when Knuckles wraps his arms around her and plants an enthusiastic and passionate kiss onto her lips. At this, more clapping breaks out amidst the hoots and hollers from the guys, awkward giggles from the girls, and the frantic clicking from Seder's camera as she rushes to record the moment.

The commotion dies down and there's a mad dash for cake. Once the cake is cut and everyone's gotten a piece, we all break off into little groups or pairs and move off to our own corners to chat. Vector, Silver, Charmy, and Ray are still hanging about the food table. I watch as Silver uses his telekinesis (which makes him all shiny and glowing) to grab what looks like the entire contents of a bowl of kettle corn and fling them one by one at Vector. He darts all over the deck, trying to catch the tiny pieces of puffed corn into his massive, toothy maw, providing obvious entertainment to Charmy and Ray, who laugh and clap each time Vector manages to snatch one.

I turn away from them and scan the porch. Everyone seems to be talking to someone else. Except for Shadow, who I notice is standing awkwardly beside the food table, staring off into space with no discernable expression. I've seen the look before, and I'm not surprised. He's always like that, with his brain someplace else, and I usually try to either get him to go socialize (which is hard, since he's such a loner), or tease him and watch him go off like a powder keg (which is usually more successful).

This time, however, I follow his gaze and spy Sally talking with Sonic over by the porch steps. They're chatting animatedly, and look like they're having a good time just catching up. Instantly I realize why Shadow is staring at them. He's had a major crush on Sally for goodness knows how long. She has no idea, of course, because Shadow always becomes incredibly shy and awkward around her.

I stand frozen, like Shadow, watching Sonic and Sally for a moment before they turn and head back toward the food table – and Shadow. He immediately jolts out of his reverie and starts to quietly move away, and I'm struck with a sudden idea. Smiling to myself, I sidle up to Shadow, making him jump.

"Oh." He says, rolling his eyes. "It's only you."

"You should go talk to her." I say, putting on my most girlishly innocent voice.

He looks somewhat startled, as if the very idea is completely absurd. "I don't know what you're talking about." He snaps, regaining his cold composure. "I'm fine right here. Besides, she's talking with Sonic."

 _Uh-huh._ I think. That's what he always says. Unsurprised at his reaction and undeterred by it, I initiate the next phase of my plan. I scamper up to Sonic, who's just turned to throw his paper plate and fork into the trash.

"Hey, Sonic?" I say, grinning eagerly.

"What's up, Nannekins?" He asks.

"Can you show me your cool card trick again?" I plead. "I want to learn how to do it."

"Well," He says with a sideways glance at Sally, "I was just -"

"Oh, by the way, Sally," I cut in, pointing behind me. "Shadow wanted to talk to you. He's over there."

"Oh." Sally looks somewhat flustered. "Thanks, Nan." She moves off in Shadow's direction. I catch Sonic's eye and wink. Understanding dawns on his face as he realizes what I've just done. We both bend over with our heads together, under the pretext of having him show me his card trick, but we both keep a firm eye on Shadow and Sally. We watch as she walks up to him and asks him what he wanted to say. He looks somewhat startled, and his face slowly turns beet red as he stammers out a reply.

Sonic and I turn and walk away, leaving the two to talk. Once we're far enough away, on the opposite side of the porch near the steps, we both burst out laughing.

"Did you see his face?" I snort.

"Yeah, I did. That was priceless." He chortles. His face is all scrunched up from laughing. We laugh heartily for a few more seconds before I spy a sudden movement out of the corner of my eye. I stop laughing abruptly, ears perked, eyes sharply focused where I had spotted the movement – near the trees surrounding the meadow below Knuckle's house, which is built partially inside a tall hill-like structure in the middle of a rather dense forest. There's a small meadow directly behind the burrow, in full view of the back porch, and I continue to scan the area, my senses on full overdrive.

"What'cha looking at?" Sonic has noticed my abrupt mood change. He's looking at me with an expression somewhere between confusion, curiosity, and mild concern.

"Dunno." I reply, not taking my eyes off the surroundings. "I thought I saw something moving out there." I gesture vaguely out towards the forest beyond.

"Huh." Sonic mutters, scratching his head. "You sure it's not just a Flicky or a lost Chao?"

I'm about to reply when I catch another glimmer of movement. This time I'm able to see what it is. Or rather, what _they_ are. The first figure is definitely a Mobian, and it's jogging up the small hillock at the edge of the meadow, right above where the tree line starts. As the figure gets closer, I suddenly recognize who it is, and who its companion is.

It's Relic, a sweet, teal-furred pika with a rich foreign accent not unlike my own, who lives on Angel Island as an archaeologist. She had come to Angel Island several years prior, drawn to its numerous archaeological wonders and mysteries, and established a close friendship with Knuckles and the Chaotix. While she never officially joined the team, she remains an honorary member, and is always good for a cup of green tea and an enthusiastic (if not thoroughly baffling) explanation of her latest discovery if you drop by.

Oh, and did I mention she also happens to be Mighty's girlfriend? They've been good friends for a few years now, and only recently began dating (Probably because they're both really awkward at the whole romance thing).

Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. Sonic and I watch as Relic rushes up the knoll towards us, followed closely by her helper-robot, Fixit. (I don't know his whole story – that is, if he even has one! All I know is he's a funny little bot that's always hovering behind Relic, and that he looks like some sort of strange bug – if you squint.)

They reach the porch stairs, and Relic stops momentarily to catch her breath. She waves and shouts to announce her arrival.

"Yoo – hoo!" She calls cheerily. "Knuckles? Are you home?"

Nearly everybody rushes over to the railing and looks down. That is, nearly everybody except for Shadow and Sally; who I'm happy to see are still busy talking. Their backs are turned, and they are so engrossed in their conversation, they seem not to have noticed Relic's arrival.

Smiling to myself, I turn back toward the crowd gathered at the railing. Mighty is calling down to Relic.

"Oh, hey, Relic!" He says with a huge grin. "What brings you here?"

Relic reaches the top of the stairs, huffing and puffing, with Fixit at her heels.

"Nothing too earth-shattering," She answers breathlessly, adjusting her pink-rimmed glasses, which have been knocked askew during the jog. "But I've just made a breakthrough in translating some ancient manuscripts and comparing them to the notes I made on the Marble Garden Zone!" She says happily. Then her cheeks turn slightly pink, and she starts fingering the purple pendant on the necklace she always wears. "But as I see I'm gate-crashing a party, it can wait." She turns to leave.

"Hey, don't go!" Mighty says, reaching out an arm to stop her. "You're not gate-crashing anything." He gestures behind him to the food table. "There's still some cake left. That is, if Vector hasn't eaten it all."

Relic smiles shyly. "O-okay." She stammers. "As long as it's okay with Knuckles."

"Pshaw!" Knuckles snorts, waving his hand dismissively. "It's all good."

"Thanks, Knuckles." Relic says happily.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 My Day is Interrupted By a Radio Broadcast

We stay at Knuckles' house until well after dark, playing board games and sipping sparkling cider. After the chess tournament (Silver wins), Vector turns on the boom box and starts a raucous karaoke game, in which I do not join. (I can play the flute reasonably well, but when it comes to singing I can't carry a tune to save my life.)

When it gets late and people start yawning, we help clean up the house and start heading back to our own homes. Instead of trying to catch a flight off the island out of Launch Base Zone, we simply use warp rings, as they're easier to use, cost-efficient, and quicker than taking an aircraft. Shadow, however, uses Chaos Control. He bids everyone goodnight and promptly vanishes into thin air with a _crack_.

Once he's gone, the Chaotix, who all live on Angel Island, say goodnight and leave for their nearby houses. Mighty offers to walk Relic home and the two leave for her house hand in hand, with Fixit and Ray trailing behind. Sonic comes up to me as the rest of us are gathering our things and getting ready to go.

"You've got your warp ring with you?" He asks.

I nod, pulling out of my yellow and pink purse a shiny golden ring as big as my hand.

Rocky ambles over, hefting his duffel bag. "Are you sure you're okay at Headquarters by yourself?" He asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

"For the last time," I sigh, "I'm fine. Sure, it's lonely without Blaze, but I'm only there half the time. I've got my job at the hospital to keep me busy. I'm fine, really."

"Just making sure." Rocky replies, tugging good-naturedly at my braid. He then turns and watches as Sonic activates his own warp ring. It swells in size until it's taller than me, and its center is filled with a sparkling, swirling glow. The rest of the team (and Sally) begin to climb through it one by one, disappearing into the swirling sparkles. When it's his turn, Rocky turns to me and waves.

"See you around, mate!" He says before vanishing into the portal. As he was the last one through, the ring shrinks rapidly in size once he's gone, finally disappearing altogether with a small _pop_.

I say goodbye to Knuckles and activate my own warp ring. Once it's grown to full size I adjust my purse over my shoulder and step through the ring into the magic sparkles.

v

My feet land with a _crunch_ on solid ground. I blink and look around. I've landed on the front lawn outside the house, and my feet are buried in three inches of snow.

 _Brrr_. I think to myself, shivering. _Why does March have to be so cold here?_ It's certainly a shock from the warm, spring sun I enjoyed earlier today on Angel Island. _But why should I be surprised?_ I think. _Mercia's always cold this time of year._

I look around and spy the warp ring on the ground a few feet away, glinting in the light from the neighboring houses across the street. I pick it up, pocket it, and fumble for the house key in my purse as I make my way up the porch steps.

My pet Wisp, Penny greets me gleefully as I step inside and stomp the snow off my shoes. Penny is a White Wisp, one of the many different Wisp varieties inhabiting a small planet near the edge of the galactic Middle Zone. We visited the planet as part of our clue-investigating expedition, and I befriended a small White Wisp with a few curly pink tendrils atop her head. She became completely attached to me, so when we left, she went with me, and we've been together ever since.

"Some weather we're having, huh?" I remark to her, patting her head. She cocks her head to the left, her way of saying " _I don't know."_

"Almost makes me wish for the torrential rain we had last week." I say, dropping my purse on the table and closing the curtains for the night. "At least then it was above 40O."

She floats in dizzy circles about my head, making little chirping noises. My jaws crack in a huge yawn.

"Time for bed." I say, heading up the stairs.

v

The next morning, I wake up at seven as usual, grab my purse and a bite to eat, say goodbye to Penny, and leave for work via warp ring, landing near the front steps of the Tommy Turtle Memorial Hospital in New Mobotropolis.

"Good morning!" Abbie Lakes, the receptionist calls to me as I step inside.

If you think it's strange I should be going to work at this age, don't. If I was still on Argentia, I'd be considered an adult ( _heh heh_ ). By Mobian standards I'm still a teenager, but in places like Mercia or Acorn it's common for teens to get a basic job such as cooking or cleaning while receiving formal training. (It's an alternative to spending time and gobs of money at a university) I'm training to be a nurse, and I've already passed most of my exams. You might not think a silly prankster like me would make a good nurse, but I really enjoy it, and my cheerful attitude seems to have rubbed off on most of the other nurses.

My morning is spent as it usually is: completing my janitorial duties, assisting Dr. Quack as he makes his check-ups, and sanitizing the recently vacated rooms. When lunchtime rolls around, I'm a little spent, as usual, but still brimming with a bubbly attitude. I sit down at one of the tables in the break room next to Clover Harper and Marleen River, the other two teens-in-training. They seem to be in deep conversation, but when I sit down, they stop talking abruptly.

"H'llo!" I say cheerfully, setting down my juice box. They glance at each other, and then back at me. "Hullo, Milan." River says in reply (Everybody here addresses each other by their last name).

"What's going on?" I say, immediately sensing that something's up.

Harper looks at me like I've just grown a third ear. "What's going on?" She repeats. "Haven't you heard the news? I thought you'd be out with your team, investigating."

"What are you on about?" I ask.

For a reply, Harper gets up and goes over to the radio, turning up the volume so everyone can hear it. Noise slowly dies down as the room's other occupants take notice. For a few minutes, we listen to the commercials, waiting for the regular broadcast. Then, after an advertisement for _Brummel's Swank Hair Tonic: Your dandruff will be history!_ I hear some static, then the catchword of the local radio news broadcast.

 _…You're listening to_ _ **New M. News**_ _on_ _ **88.3.**_

After this, I hear the throaty, slightly out-of-breath voice of the broadcasters' top emcee.

 _…And it's thirty minutes after 12:00 here in New Mobotropolis. I'm Marty Malcolm with a special news report coming to you live all the way from Angel Island. Here's Lily Evans._

Another brief moment of static, and then a female voice comes on.

 _…Thank you, Marty. I'm Lily Evans here, broadcasting to you live from Rocky Hill Zone on Angel Island, and it is just ten minutes till 2:30 PM. At 11:47 AM, Angel Island time, we received word from local law enforcement agents here in Rocky Hill that Mighty the Armadillo and Ray the Flying Squirrel, two members of the Freedom Fighter Team known as the Chaotix, have been reported missing, along with renowned archaeologist Relic the Pika. According to Rainbow Valley Police reports, the three were last seen at the house of the Guardian Knuckles at 8:30 PM, Angel Island time, the previous day, where they reportedly left the house at the same time to make for Relic's home._

 _The disappearance was first noticed by Julie-Su the Echidna, another one of the Chaotix, when she visited Mighty's house this morning around 9:00 AM, Angel Island time. Likewise, coworker of Relic, Jen Griffin, also filed a report when Relic allegedly failed to show up for work this morning. An investigation of the places of residence was conducted immediately by the Rainbow Valley Police Department. They insist nothing was taken from Mighty's place of residence, nor does it appear to have been broken into, which leads police to assume Mighty and Ray never reached home last night. Investigation of Relic's residence yielded evidence of forced entry. It is currently unknown whether anything was taken from the place of residence. It is also currently unknown who or what might have caused the disappearances._

 _Local police will continue to investigate the case, and all crime-stopping agencies on the mainland have been alerted, and will remain on the lookout for any evidence regarding these disappearances. Meanwhile, our listeners are advised to immediately notify the nearest law enforcement agency if they have anything to report regarding this case._

 _Once again, I'm Lily Evans, reporting to you live from Rocky Hill Zone, Angel Island._

More static, and the catchphrase rolls across the waves once again.

 _…You're listening to_ _ **New M. News**_ _on_ _ **88.3**_ _._

 _…It's just after 12:30 here in New Mobotropolis. I'm Marty Malcolm, and that was Lily Evans reporting to you live from Angel Island on the disappearances of renowned archaeologist Relic the Pika, as well as Chaotix team members Mighty the Armadillo and Ray the Flying Squirrel. Our listeners are reminded once more to report any suspicious circumstances to our police hotline. To report information regarding this case or others, please call 883-942-7221. That's 883-942-…_

Harper turns down the radio's volume, and chatting resumes. I, however, sit slack-jawed in my seat, my lunch untouched.

"You didn't hear about it?" River asks me.

I shake my head. _Why didn't anybody call me?_ I wonder.

"It's all over the news." Harper remarks. "I saw it on the television earlier this morning when I was on janitorial duty in the lobby."

Just then, one of the counter clerks, Cormac Hunter, comes jogging in. "Hey, Milan!" He calls.

I look up, surprised. "Yes?" I reply.

"There's someone at the front desk here to see you."

 _Huh._ I think. That's never happened before. Getting up, I retrieve my purse from the locker room and follow Hunter down to the lobby, where I'm met with a familiar face.

"Rouge?" I say. "What're you doing here?"

Rouge, a tall white bat with bright turquoise eyes, beckons me over. She has an air of urgency about her.

"You heard the news?"

"Uh-huh." I reply. "Why did nobody -?"

"Come on!" She says. "We need to meet the others on Angel Island."

"Angel Island?" I ask, puzzled. "Why not headquarters?"

"I'll explain later, hon." She says. For some reason, she seems rather off. Like something's bothering her. I mean, I know the disappearances have thrown everyone out of whack, but she seems like something else is wrong.

"You okay?" I ask.

"We've got a lot going on, hon." She mutters. I decide to drop the subject.

"I'll let Dr. Quack know where you've gone, Milan." Hunter says. "He'll understand."

"Thanks." I say, turning and following Rouge outside. Shadow is there, waiting for us near the neatly landscaped front lawn.

"What took you so long?" He asks coldly. His face is stonier than ever.

"So long?" Rouge repeats, incredulous. "I was only in there for, like, five minutes. C'mon, let's go."

We link hands, forming a circle. "Chaos Control!" Shadow shouts. With a flash of light and a loud _crack_ , we're pulled strongly by some unseen force into swirling blackness.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 I Go For a Walk

I gasp for air as I collapse to the ground, even though it's only been a few seconds since we left the hospital. However, travel by Chaos Control is very different from travel by warp ring and I know which one I prefer. It feels like I'm being stretched through a very tight tube. My lungs are compressed, and I can't take a breath. There's no harm done, since the whole thing takes all of about two seconds, but the sensation is one I'll never get used to. I've done it several times before, and I respond the same each time. I collapse to the ground as soon as my feet hit it, coughing and choking.

 _I will never get used to that!_ I think to myself. It's then that I realize just how noisy it is. I hear shouting, banging, idling vehicle motors, and the general babble of tons of people talking at once.

I look up. We've arrived near Relic's house at the edge of Rocky Hill Zone. It's a nice house, built partially into the surrounding hill, like all residences in this area. The front lawn is outlined with a white picket fence, and the flowers and ornamental shrubs are nicely landscaped and outlined with decorative stone tile. An old marble statue stands in the center of a circular patio surrounded by budding camellia shrubs.

The place would look pretty if it isn't completely overrun with cameras, recorders, large, fancy-looking equipment, detectives, cameramen, news broadcasters, reporters, journalists from about ten different news presses, and what looks like half the Rainbow Valley Police Department. Everyone is rushing about the scene, moving cameras and recording equipment, searching through the hedges and flower beds, and barking orders to their subordinates.

My mouth falls open.

"You okay, mate?" Someone asks. I turn, which is hard to do, because I'm still sprawled on the ground like some demented spider. Rocky is standing over me with a concerned expression on his face. He offers me his hand to help me up and I take it gratefully.

"Thanks." I say, reaching down to dust off my clothes. I'm still wearing my white and pale blue nurse uniform. My hat has fallen off, and sits in a limp white lump on the grass. I pick it up and put it on, tucking my long, droopy bangs underneath.

"When did you hear about…?" I hesitate to find the right words. "…all this?"

"About two minutes before we got here." Rocky replies. "I was helping Tails fix my Extreme Gear board in the workshop when Silver came rushing in to tell us what had happened. He was working at Uncle Chuck's and saw it on the television. Apparently it's on every TV news corps and radio broadcast from Snottingham to Furville."

"Well, something like this is big news." I say, gesturing to the uproar behind me. "Hence the crazy scene before us."

"Yup." He agrees. "I wonder what really happened?" Shaking his head, he moves off to speak to Shadow. I walk over to where Julie-Su, Knuckles, Vector, and Rouge are speaking to a tall blue chameleon who I assume is the one in charge. I can hear their conversation as I get closer.

"…And you're positive there was nothing unusual about Mighty and Ray before they left last night?" The officer is saying. He has a deep, growling voice, and doesn't sound too pleased to be there. Nor, apparently, does Julie-Su. She is scowling at the officer, and looks like she wants nothing more than to pound him flat for wasting her time.

"I told you a dozen times already." She snaps, trying in vain to keep a calm composure. "There was nothing different about them, nothing. Somebody at the party would have noticed if anything was wrong."

The officer turns to the small and rather ferrety dingo behind him, who is furiously taking notes on what Julie-Su just said. "You got all that, Art?" The dingo nods absentmindedly, not taking his eyes off the notebook.

The officer starts to talk to Vector, but I don't really catch what's being said. My mind is going a million kilometers an hour.

 _Something doesn't add up_. I think. _Suppose somebody kidnapped them. If Mighty, Relic, and Ray reached the house before they got kidnapped, then why was the house broken into? The kidnapping must have happened_ before _the three reached the house._

Retracing their steps in my head, I turn and head off toward the edge of the forest, where the police have set up a perimeter with yellow tape. As I get closer, I see that the wide, obnoxiously yellow tape is emblazoned with the words: **CRIME SCENE! DO NOT CROSS!** Gazing off into the distance past the perimeter, I can see the gravel pathway winding through the woods in the direction of Knuckles' house. I pause in front of the tape fence, trying to imagine what might have transpired last night around eight PM.

 _Fixit would most likely be in the lead, shining his flashlight ahead so the group could see. Mighty and Relic would be right behind him, probably holding hands and talking. Ray would be trailing behind like he always does. They'd be walking along, not even paying attention until…_

 _Hmmm._ I ponder, tapping my foot, like I always do when I'm thinking. _Supposing this was, in fact,_ _a kidnapping and not something else, they'd need to have the element of surprise. That's the only way they'd be able to take Mighty._

 _Hmm…I reckon whoever kidnapped them did it somewhere along the forest road. If anyone were to try and ambush them, it would be somewhere in these woods. They're not incredibly dense, but on a dark night it would be so easy to hide behind a tree and not be spotted._

I suddenly have an idea. _What if there are clues along the path the police missed?_ I wonder. _It doesn't look like they've thought to check the forest._

I'm about to head off and find somebody and tell them my hunch, but then stop. _Why shouldn't I look for clues myself?_ I reason. _After all, I_ am _part of the SSS Team. I have as much right to search the woods as anybody. And besides._ I say to myself. _I'm an Argentian. Forests are my home turf. I'd be twice more likely to spot a clue than a bumbling policeman._

Glancing around to make sure nobody is paying attention, I ignore the message on the caution tape and duck underneath it. I get to my feet and head off towards the woods before anyone spots me. Along the way, I scan the grass and the gravel path for clues.

 _Hmmm…_ I think again. _Of course, the path has to be gravel, and not something like dirt or mud that could leave footprints. Perhaps somebody could have left marks in a tree or bush?_ Pleased with my own cleverness, I follow the path even farther into the woods, stopping when I can no longer see the house. I scan my entire surroundings. The forest is about as typical as you can get. I see lots of trees (primarily oak, chestnut, and white birch), and dense undergrowth (including huckleberry bushes, vanilla leaf, monkshood, baneberry, red alder, and multiple varieties of ferns.) The trees are of an average age, covered in moss, and spaced pretty far apart. Dozens of different possible scenarios of last night run through my mind.

"Possible vantage points…" I mutter aloud, trying to visualize things from a theoretical villain's point of view. "…Could be from behind the trees, inside the red alder bushes, or up in the trees…" I look up. Though the leaves are young and fresh, allowing the March sunshine to peek through, on a dark night, they would easily hide a strike team sitting in the topmost branches of the oaks or chestnuts.

"…Or a small ship…" I wonder aloud. "They could position it right over the canopy, and then thugs could drop right over Mighty, Ray, and Relic. They might not have been paying enough attention to notice any engine noise. But still…" I ponder some more. " _Are_ there any engines powerful enough to keep a small ship airborne yet be silent enough not to be noticed by three people alone on the road at night?" The idea, while still a possibility, seems highly unlikely. I make a mental note to ask Tails about engine noises later.

"Well, then." I say to myself. "If that idea isn't likely, then maybe one of my other scenarios might be?" I begin searching the ground for any sign of disruption, such as a heavy footprint on the ground beside the path, bent or misshapen bushes, scuff marks on tree bark, broken branches, or scattered leaves.

"Huh." I snort. Several minutes of carful searching has yielded nothing. No scuff marks, no footprints, no broken branches, no nothing. I am disappointed, to say the least.

"What am I missing?" I wonder aloud, staring around me at the quiet forest. That's when I spy a flash of purple down near the middle of the gravel path. I freeze. There it is, a small glimmer of orchid purple, like an LED bulb on a string of Christmas lights.

 _What's that?_ I wonder, stepping over to the mysterious sparkle. _A jewel?_

As it turns out, the mysterious object is, in fact, a jewel of sorts. It's a small, spherical bead on a twisted hemp cord. With a start, I realize that this is the necklace I always see Relic wearing. The lobster-claw clasp at the back is broken, and the ends of the cord are all jumbled, like my climbing rope whenever I accidentally drop it out of a tree.

 _Hmm…_ _Hemp is known to keep its shape if it's subjected to force, such as bending or pulling_. I examine the necklace even closer. The vertex of the oval appears to be right at the bead. The cord is stretched and bent sharply around the bead, creating a sort of wonky horseshoe shape.

A scene suddenly unfolds in my mind. _Relic, surrounded by enemies, fumbling for the large bead at her throat, tugging the necklace free just as her kidnappers reach for her, and dropping the necklace behind her as they grab her and drag her off…_

I stare at the little pile of twisted hemp lying limply on the gravel. My heart is pounding. I've just found a clue. A clue that will take us closer to solving this mystery.

v

I race back to the house the way I had come, ducking under the caution tape fence just as Rocky and Sonic catch sight of me. They hurry over.

"Where have you been?" Rocky demands. "Sightseeing?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." I say, stopping to push my stubborn bangs back under my hat. "I found a clue in the forest. Relic's necklace."

"Did you now?" Sonic asks, raising his eyebrows. "I told those horn-heads they'd want to check the path. Good job."

He races off, leaving Rocky and me standing there next to the tape fence. In a few moments, he comes back, followed by a female raccoon officer with blue eyes, curly red hair, and a rather pointy face. Her uniform is clean and pressed, and I think I detect a whiff of some sort of strange perfume as she approaches. The name on her uniform says "F. Wally." They all follow me into the woods, listening as I explain my theories – even the far-fetched ones, and the clues I had been searching for.

Officer Wally's face brightens as soon as she sees the necklace. She turns to Rocky.

"Go and find Officer Hardy and his crew." She barks in a voice that sounds used to being followed. Rocky has no choice but to obey. He turns and scampers off down the path.

"Now, girl." She says, turning to me. "You say you found this exactly as it is?" Her voice is very serious. "Did you touch or disturb it in any way?"

In spite of myself, my insides clench. Who did she think I was? Some simple village lass? If it weren't for me, they wouldn't have found this lead in the first place. _Well, then_. I think. _If that's what she thinks, better live up to her expectations._

"No, ma'am." I say in my most innocently girlish voice, trying to keep my face straight. "Does breathing on it count as touching it? Because I kinda did that when I bent down to take a closer look."

Officer Wally's pointy face hardens into a scowl, but she's spared from answering by the timely arrival of Rocky. He comes hurrying around the corner with a whole horde of officers at his heels. Directly behind him is a rather skinny, grey-furred weasel with a mop of lank reddish hair that's thinning in places. His eyes are a cunning yellow, and he looks well-suited to his work. Funnily enough, however, he's dressed rather sloppily, as if he'd done it in a hurry. His cap is backwards and his shirt is buttoned the wrong way, so that one side of his collar sticks up higher than the other. The embroidered name on the uniform reads 'C. Hardy.'

He barks an order to his men and they all crowd around the necklace, forcing Sonic and me out of the way. Someone snaps a picture with the enormous camera he's holding. Another holds out a metal detector and the crowd of officers thins out slowly out as he begins to sweep the area back and forth with the scanner.

Thinking it best to leave them to their work, Rocky turns to leave, gesturing to Sonic and me to follow.

"C'mon. Let's regroup." He says as we walk down the forest path once more (Sonic runs and is soon out of sight).

"Not me." I say determinedly. "I want to see if there's anything to find in the house."

"The police have already scoured it." Rocky remarks. Then he chuckles. "But at the rate you're going, you might find something else." He laughs good-naturedly and waves as he's hailed by Tails and goes off to speak to him.

I continue through the zoo of policemen and camera crews to the neat tiled pathway between tidily manicured hedges. Everybody is busy with their work and nobody bothers to look at a young girl wearing a matching white hat and coat with the Tommy Turtle Memorial Hospital emblem. That is, nobody bothers except the guard blocking the door.

If not for the Rainbow Valley Police uniform (XXXL, I assume) and the hat jammed onto his massive frame, I would have asked why there was a boulder in front of the door. The grizzly bear bloke is huge, almost five-and-a-half feet tall (which is a considerable height, since most Mobians only reach about three-foot-six), with a shaggy mop of dull chestnut-brown hair escaping his hat that partially obscures the dark, almost black eyes beneath. The name on his coat is faded, but the name 'J. Dennison' is still visible. He's looking at his watch when I first catch sight of him, but he looks up when I approach. The scowl he gives me tells me two things: He's probably not having a good day, and I'm clearly _not_ welcome.

"Hey, girl." He growls in a throaty voice. "Only policemen past this point. Now, scram!"

 _Humph!_ I snort to myself. _That's the second time in five minutes somebody's called me 'girl.' What am I, a common tree-rat?_ I keep my cool, however, and try to look as innocent as possible. In the back of my mind, I wonder why Rainbow Valley hired a thug with such rude manners. Probably not just to obscure doorways.

"But I'm a Freedom Fighter." I say, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

At this, his scowl deepens even further, until his eyes are almost obscured by his furrowed brows.

"You heard me!" He barks. "Nobody in, nobody out. Now scram before I have to take you in for trespassing!" He raises his fist threateningly.

I gulp. This bloke clearly means business. After that, my one thought is to get away. Sure, part of me wants to hang around a bit more and see if I can try to outwit him, but my better judgment overcomes it. From what I've just seen, I don't think I want to risk antagonizing this fellow further. He looks like he could knock Knuckles flat and not even notice. But I still cannot resist having the last laugh.

"Alright, sorry." I say a little over-apologetically as I move away. "Sorry I disturbed you. I'll just leave you to your guard duty, because it looks like such an _important_ and _meaningful_ task, keeping little girls from going inside doors." With that, I dart away before he can figure out what I meant. My guess is three minutes at the least, after which I will be long gone.

Smiling smugly to myself, I quickly make my way across the lawn, slowing my pace as I get farther away from the house. I pass several officers on my way, but nobody so much as looks at me except for Hardy and Wally. They're speaking to each other in low voices near one of the reporter vans, but look up when I pass. Their faces are nearly identical: cold and calculating, with a hint of disapproval. I smile sweetly and put my hands in my coat pockets to try and convey the message that I'm not doing anything wrong.

Moving away from them and their rather unnerving stares, I suddenly notice something is different. I glance up at the sky. The sun is sinking ever lower towards the horizon.

 _But that's impossible!_ I think, checking my watch. 1:57. _Huh._ _Weird._

I dash up to Sonic, who's busy flipping through a packet of papers one of the officers has just handed him. Before I can say anything, however, a large sheaf of papers discharges from the packet and come cascading down onto the grass.

"Aw, nertz." Sonic mutters, bending down to scoop up the papers. "I really wish Amy was here. She'd know what to do with all this." We gather up the papers, fit them back into their packet, and Sonic resumes his inspection.

Hey, Sonic?" I ask. "How come the sun's so low in the sky, but my watch says it's only two?"

He pauses in his paper-perusing to observe what I had. Then he smacks his forehead.

"Really? It's that late already?" He says.

"What's going on?" I persist.

"We're on Angel Island, Nannekins." He says. "At this time of year, it's about two hours ahead of New Mobotropolis. It's almost four. Which reminds me; we need to regroup with everybody at Knuckles' house." He starts to move off in the direction most of the team is in.

"Why not Headquarters?" I ask, confused.

"Knux's house is closer, especially for the Chaotix!" He calls over his shoulder, beckoning me to follow with the packet of papers. I start after him, and then pause as, out of the corner of my eye, I notice a tiny glimmer of movement near the front porch, where the police thug is standing, now talking to Officer Hardy. When I turn my head to look properly, it's gone.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Seder Creates A Conspiracy Theory

The atmosphere at Knuckles' house when we all arrive can be described in one word: apprehensive. I can almost feel uneasiness oozing from everyone like blood from a wound, or chocolate cream from my favorite donut.

It takes a very long time for everyone to dissolve their own small talk and sit down. First Charmy wants hot chocolate, then Vector asks if there's anything to eat, so it's a good half-hour before we all sit down.

Though Sonic is the recognized leader of the SSS Team, Rocky is much better at organizing things. I end my conversation with Espio and seat myself on the floor of the living room where everyone is gathered.

"If you don't mind, Julie-Su," Rocky begins, gesturing toward her, "perhaps you could give us SSS members an account of what happened this morning from your perspective?"

Everyone looks at Julie-Su. Everyone, that is, except Seder, whose eyes remain fixed on the screen of the laptop perched across her legs. She's sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against the right arm of the couch. In the momentary silence, I can hear the clattering of the keyboard as her hands fly furiously across it.

Julie-Su, sitting in between Knuckles and Sonic, sighs and stifles a yawn. Her eyes are drooping slightly, and she's slouching heavily against Knuckles' shoulder. She looks completely worn-out, like a sponge that's been wrung too many times.

"The police report was accurate." She began. "I went to Mighty and Ray's house at about 9:00 this morning to see if they'd fixed my coffee machine. When I got there, though, nobody was home, and the place looked completely untouched, like they'd never gotten home. Well, I thought maybe they were at Relic's house. So I went there and found Jen, one of Relic's colleagues, knocking at the door. I asked what was going on. She said Relic hadn't shown up this morning for work. I told her I was looking for Mighty and Ray, who were also missing.

That's when we spotted the broken window on the north end of the house. We'd started to get worried by that time, and since the door was locked, we went in through the broken window to see if we could find anything."

Here she pauses as an enormous yawn splits her jaws. She clears her throat rather sleepily and continues.

"The whole place was ransacked. Books, papers, documents, maps, artifacts, furniture…it was all overturned or scattered all over the floor. The library and her workspace were completely torn apart. Even her bedroom had been plundered. The bedding was all pulled off the bed and the dresser drawers were piled on the floor.

Naturally, I called the rest of the Chaotix, we went straight to the Rainbow Valley Police department, and you know the rest. And if you don't mind, I've had a long day, and I don't feel like answering any more questions. I've had enough interrogation to last me a lifetime."

There's a rather awkward pause after she finishes talking, broken only by the sound of Seder's fingers on the keyboard.

"Well," Rocky begins, "I think the first question we need to ask is: Who kidnapped them, and why?"

"If they even _were_ kidnapped." Rouge points out. She's got that funny look again, like she's got something nagging at her mind.

Sonic gapes at her. "Well, _duh_!" He says, waving his hands animatedly. "Of course they were kidnapped. I think it's pretty obvious that they were kidnapped."

"Nan found Relic's necklace in the woods, remember?" Says Rocky.

"Yes, but she could have just dropped it." Rouge refutes. "It could have just fallen off, and she didn't notice. I've had that happen before with my jewelry." As she says this, she fingers her own pendant, as if to assure herself it's still there.

Sonic's still looking at her like she's got three heads. "If they weren't kidnapped, why else would they have gone missing? And if they weren't kidnapped, why was the house broken into?"

Rouge opens her mouth to speak, and falls silent. On her face is a grouchy, sullen look that could rival Shadow's best. Before anyone else can speak, however, Tails leans over to see what's on Seder's computer screen.

"What'cha looking for?" He asks. At this, everyone's attention turns from Rouge and Sonic to Seder, who's gaze is still fixed upon her screen.

"Hacking the Rainbow Valley Police Department's network." She says casually, as if hacking a police network is the most normal thing in the world. Nearly everyone's mouths drop open.

"Why on Mobius are you doing that?" Silver splutters.

Seder finally looks up from her screen to glare at her brother. "To see if they're not the ones behind the kidnapping!" She says, like that should be obvious. "Earlier at the crime scene, I went around and wrote down the names of every officer there. I'm looking up all their files now to see if they check out."

"Meaning?" Rouge asks.

Seder pauses her typing to look up once more, this time out at everyone else. "Meaning if any of the officers were imposters, I'll know. I'm also checking out all the journalists, cameramen, news reporters, and detectives that were there to see if they're legit."

"Good idea." Tails says.

"But I still don't see why it's necessary." Rouge asks.

This time, Sonic's not the only one that gives her a funny look. Shadow, Knuckles, Vector, and Espio are all looking at her with something like suspicion.

"Well, do you know another place to start?" Espio asks in his deep, slow voice.

"No, but -"

"Seder, have you got any idea why someone would want to break into Relic's house?" Vector interrupts.

"Yes, although it's more of a guess." She replies, once more absorbed in her computer screen.

"All we've got so far are guesses." Charmy remarks from his perch atop the unmoving ceiling fan.

"Relic's an archaeologist." Seder begins.

"And?" Shadow inquires.

"And anyone who breaks into her house is likely looking for some of her research. Tomorrow we need to contact the police department and ask for a report on the damage done to the house. Maybe we'll find something new to add to this puzzle."

Any further conversation is halted as several of us, including me, yawn. Despite the shorter day I've had, I'm exhausted. The others look tired, too. Shadow is slumped across the arm of the sofa, Silver's eyes are drooping dramatically, and Julie-Su looks almost asleep. Even Sonic looks tired.

"I think we should call it quits for tonight." Shadow says, laboriously getting to his feet and stretching.

"SSS, you can crash here if you like." Knuckles says.

With many yawns, the Chaotix grab their shoes and coats, say goodnight, and leave in pairs for their nearby homes. Charmy accompanies a scowling Vector, and Espio leads a half-conscious Julie-Su out the door. Each pair carries a flashlight and a walkie-talkie within easy reach.

"Just in case." Espio says, leaving the third walkie-talkie within earshot of the rest of the crew.

Once we've produced enough pillows and extra blankets for everyone (I thank goodness it's not cold here this time of year, or else there wouldn't be enough to go around), all the boys (minus Knuckles) crash on the sofas and floors of the living room, while Seder, Rouge and I camp out on the futon and the extra mattress in the one-roomed basement.

It's cooler down here than up there, but that's just as well, as I'm sure I'd be too hot with all the extra bodies upstairs. The moon is shining through the curtains over the sliding door, faintly illuminating the other dusty objects in this little-used room – a pair of snowshoes, a toolbox, a broken picture frame, a box of fishing tackle, an armchair with a ripped cushion, and the closet door concealing the furnace. I can hear water gushing through a pipe somewhere in the wall behind me. Rouge is lying on her side on the mattress below the futon, facing the wall. I can't tell if she's asleep or only pretending. (It wouldn't be the first time!) Seder is still hunched over her computer.

"Can't you take a break?" I complain. The constant clattering of the keyboard and the light from the screen is making it hard for me to fall asleep. Not only that, the furnace kicks in as I say this, filling the dim room with a low, rattling moan. I roll over and pull an extra throw pillow from the pile on the floor, planting it firmly over my head. I sigh with relief. The lumpy, heavy pillow dulls the noise reaching my ears and blocks out the light.

Before I know it, I'm asleep.


End file.
